


You're the place my life begins.

by serendipia



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst too, Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, Proposals, a lot of fluff, also louis is kind of paranoid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 16:33:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1989942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipia/pseuds/serendipia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is in the middle of a drunken conversation with his hipster friends that Nick brings it up, consequently, Harry spends the next few days thinking about an analogy involving love and a sock. That is, until a Chinese lady walks up to him and offers a very wise cookie.</p><p>In short, Harry proposes to Louis.</p><p>(Title from the song “Flying without wings” by Westlife.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

            Harry is sitting cross-legged on the carpet of Nick’s living room when the subject is brought up for the first time. He, Ed and Lila are the only ones left after Nick’s birthday party is over, and they have gathered up in a circle to share alcohol, weed and some of their wisest advices. Well, Louis is there too, but he’s sleeping on a very uncomfortable-looking couch. At forty past five in the morning, the music has already been turned off and people have already left. The party has started as a BBQ by the pool in the morning, and finished as a huge mess of drunken people dancing, making out, chatting and smoking joints in every spot of his house. It has been wild, and now his entire house looks like it has been taken over by a typhoon. Red cups and bottles are scattered all around the place, and there’s food in almost every piece of furniture, there is a broken lamp and he is pretty sure he was not wearing tight leather pants four hours ago, -yet he is not very sure about the reason why he is wearing them now. But he thinks that the massive cleaning he will have to do will be worth it, because he has never had that much fun in his entire existence.

            The four people who are awake are talking, holding cups of some weird brand of alcohol someone has brought. By long words written on the tag, they figure it is probably German or Italian (but it’s actually a bottle of Bacardi mojito). Given that alcohol makes people philosophical and emotional, the topics they have chosen go from love and past, to how old they are getting, and settling down.

            Between slurred words and weird metaphors worthy of a true hipster, no one makes much sense, really.

            “Love is like a sock,” Nick says, with his index finger held high as if he is teaching a lesson to his pupils, he looks thoughtful and concentrated, “you are not complete without the other.” He finishes his sentence by closing his eyes dramatically and the other three only nod with serious looks on their faces, amazed by the older man’s wisdom.

            They bring their cups together and make a toast. “ _To love_ ”, they say in unison as their cups meet in the middle of their circle. After a minute, Lila, a girl with blue hair who has been dating Ed for almost two years, says, “you mean that you are a sock or that love is a sock?” She makes this question in a very serious manner, with her eyebrows knitted together and the corners of her mouth going slightly downwards in concentration, unaware of the little sense the whole conversation makes. Nick sighs in annoyance; he has always thought that this girl takes things too literally sometimes. But he guesses he can’t blame her, not many people have the capacity to understand an aureate vocabulary like his.

            “I mean that you are a sock, therefore you are not complete without your partner,” Nick explains with exaggerated hand gestures and Harry chuckles, “and love is the whole context, got it?”

            She nods thoughtfully and Ed smiles, kissing the side of her head. It’s when a chill goes down Harry’s spine and he shivers, the hair on his skin going up a little. It is really chilly in there, so he rubs his hands together, hoping that the friction will provide him some warmth. He takes a look at Louis’s direction, and wonders if the man is cold. He studies him for a second, and notices how his hands are hidden between his thighs; a sign that he is indeed cold.            

            “Why a sock, and not a shoe?” Lila asks all of a sudden, and Nick widens his eyes, exasperated. He looks murderous and more than ready to commit a crime. Ed only laughs at the absurdity of it all, whilst Harry gets up from his spot. The younger lad walks all the way across the living room to the couch where Louis is sleeping, taking off his coat in the process.

            When he reaches his destination, he frowns because Louis’s body is trembling slightly, so he hurries and carefully places his coat over him, making sure to tuck it at the sides and under his body. He sits down on the floor to be at the same level as the sleeping man’s face, and smiles goofily at his peaceful features. He raises his right hand and pushes back a thin strand of hair that has stubbornly fallen over the other’s right eye, and takes advantage of the new position of his hand to caress Louis’s soft hair lovingly, grinning when the other’s mouth goes upward in a sleepy smile.

            “Harry?” Louis says in a drowsy voice, without bothering to open his eyes. And Harry cannot help but think about how adorable his boyfriend is, so he pecks his lips quickly.

            “Shh, babe, go back to sleep,” Harry tells him, with his hand now caressing his cheeks.

            “Okay,” the man says, his voice so small that his partner almost doesn’t catch it. He is really exhausted, for the reason that the previous day they had a radio show at seven in the morning, a photoshoot at ten, rehearsal at three in the afternoon and a show at five in the evening. They were done with every activity at eight and arrived at Nick’s house an hour later. Harry had told him that he didn’t have to attend the party, but Louis refused to let Harry close to an inebriated Nick without his supervision. Not that he doesn’t trust his boyfriend, but he definitely does not trust Nicholas Grimshaw, (he will never let go that the man said in national radio that he’d ‘ _do’_ Harry, no matter how many years it has been already).

            Harry smiles, because he has so much love storage inside he thinks his heart will boost soon. Like in any given moment he will suddenly break into running, yelling how much he loves him. It is an odd kind of joy; it feels like his face may break in any moment because of how widely he smiles every day.

He kisses Louis’s nose tenderly, giggles to himself and stays there, watching his lover sleep, for about five minutes. He has not noticed that his friends have been watching him, so when he gets up, turns around and finds everyone looking at his direction, he blushes a little. He goes back to his spot on the floor, between Ed and Nick.

            When he sits, everyone is still looking at him. And the older one has a mischievous grin that Harry immediately knows is up to no good.

            “So, _Harold_ , darling,” Nick begins and slings his arm around the man’s shoulders, “we were just talking about how happy Zayn and Perrie have been since they got married.” Which is a lie because they were actually talking about the couple Nick had found in his bedroom earlier, almost at _it_.

            “Yeah,” Harry scowls, not knowing what that has to do with him. And what’s with Nick’s tone? It’s ridiculously playful.

            “You and Louis have been together for nine years already, and you seem to be more and more in love every day.” Nick points out, curling a strand of Harry’s hair around his index finger.

            “What’s your point?”

            “When will you pop the question?” Nick asks brusquely and casual, and Harry, who has just taken a sip of his drink, chokes and gets a coughing fit that has him spitting his alcoholic beverage everywhere. His eyes get comically wide and the others wonder if they might pop out any time soon.

            “W-what?!” He manages to ask, holding his chest and trying to even his breathing.

            “C’mon, Harry, you’re meant for each other.” Ed says, laughing, because apparently alcohol makes him giggly. Or maybe he’s still high on the weed they have shared, he’s not sure.  “I didn’t write you a song for nothing.”

            “Yeah, you’re a forever thing.” Lila adds, wiping some of the liquids Harry has just spat all over her.

            “But, I don’t, I don’t know.” Harry stumbles over his words and starts biting his nails, glancing nervously at Louis to make sure he has not heard any of what they are saying.

            “Stop with your bollocks. You are both so in love with each other, it makes me nauseous. He is your other sock, mate.” Nick says with a dramatic tone, and Ed and Lila only nod. Nicholas may have been crushing on Harry since day one, but behind all the jokes and all the teasing, he only wishes the best for his friend.

            Harry frowns, and looks at Louis. His drunken friends seem to have the attention span of a three year old kid, because soon they have already switched to another topic full of senseless metaphors and ridiculous remarks. But he keeps his silence during the rest of the conversation, not muttering a single word and not caring to hear what they are saying. They may be drunk and stoned, but they were right just a few minutes ago. He is crazily in love with Louis, and he knows that Louis is, too. Louis is the biggest source of happiness in his life, and there is nothing he wants more than spending the rest of his years with him. Watch him sleep, wake up with him wrapped in his arms, prepare breakfast with him looking over his shoulder –those are the things that make him the happiest, and he wants the chance to do them until it is time for him to take his last breath.

            In the middle of a discussion about the multiple theories of Freud, Bruner and Piaget, -God only knows how they have ended up there-, Harry gets on his feet and walks over to his boyfriend once again. Carefully, he lifts his head, placing it on his lap as he sits on the couch too.

            After a few minutes of stroking the man’s hair and cheek, he slowly starts sliding himself underneath the other’s body, and grins when his lover cooperates and makes some room for him on the couch. When they are finally comfortable, Louis is lying entirely on Harry, his head on his chest, and the taller man’s arms are enclosing his torso protectively. It’s so warm, and it feels so right.

            Harry’s long and lanky body wraps itself neatly around Louis’s small and curvy figure, as if they were two pieces of the same jigsaw puzzle. Everything falls right into place when they are together, like this, pressed to each other. They are Fate’s masterpiece, for all Harry knows.

             “I love you,” the sleepy man says, fighting the tiredness to reach for the other’s hand and intertwine their fingers loosely.

            Maybe, it is not a bad idea after all, Harry concludes.

 


	2. Chapter 2

            Harry is wandering around the mall, looking for an anniversary gift, when he sees it. It’s small and simple and shiny and             perfect. He stares at it through the glass for a little while, his eyes wide and his mouth forming a little _o_. Taking a quick mental trip back to that morning after Nick’s party, he asks himself thirty-seven times if he should enter the store. But when rationality wins over desire, he decides that no, he should not, _not yet, it’s too soon_ , and resumes his walking.

            Half an hour later, he has not found a gift good enough for Louis, and he is somewhat frustrated. In addition to that, his feet are itching to walk back to the store where he has seen the tiny thing that caught his attention, but his brain won’t surrender. Tired, he sits on a bench in front of a Chinese souvenir store to take a breath.

            As he sits, his mind drifts back to the day he met Louis in the toilets. It is not the most romantic place to meet your other half, he is aware of that, but he would not change a single thing about it. He remembers catching Louis looking at him in the mirror, - _admiring your curls_ , he would say later-, and turning away quickly, slightly embarrassed for being caught red-handed. Harry had smiled to himself then, unaware of how special that boy with the early-Beatles-ish fringe would become in a very near future.

            Then, he saw him again, and a hesitant Louis walked up to him, told him that he was going to make it big _,_ and asked for a photo. He was not flirting, he was being genuine and with that small gesture, he became the first person to actually believe in him. Harry will never stop being grateful for that.

            And then, they were standing in front of the judges, and he could not help but take quick glances at the boy, who was shaking and nervous and so, _so_ gorgeous. And then Simon announced their decision, and he does not remember how exactly it happened, but soon enough Louis was jumping on him, with his two pairs of limbs enfolding his body. It was the first time that they had touched, but it felt natural. Like the exact moment when two souls that have known each other for centuries meet in a physical state for the first time.

            And it’s wonderful, the fact that even after all these years, he still feels awestruck whenever he thinks about it. Because, it was simply meant to happen. _They_ were meant to happen.  Nine years later, he still gets the silly butterflies inside his stomach whenever Louis looks at him. Almost a decade later, he still cannot go an hour without him because he will start missing him and whining like a little kid. And it is beautiful to feel that way, and he is happy. Kudos to lady Fate for being so good at her work.

            “Good morning, son.” All of a sudden, he is interrupted by an old Asian lady who is standing in front of him, with a wrinkly smile and a basket of cookies in her hands. He is not sure when she has gotten there or where she has come from. “Here, have one of these.” She pushes the basket toward him, and he reluctantly takes one of the cookies.

            Harry thanks the woman, and with another smile, she leaves. Still dumbfounded by the woman’s out-of-nowhere appearance, he realizes that it is a fortune cookie. Curious, he cracks it open and inside, there is a slip of paper with small letters on it. He has to squint his eyes in order to read the short sentence properly.

_‘Fate walks hand in hand with Forever.’_

            He gasps, because this is all so cliché it’s almost ridiculous. Perplexed, he looks up from the paper and at the woman, and she is smiling knowingly at him, and he wonders if she has read his mind. But he suddenly has no more doubts and he has never been surer about anything in his life,  so he gets on his feet and starts jogging to the store, the lovely old lady still looking at him with a fond smile from the door of her store.

            He reaches the store, and waits for his breathing to even before going in. When he stops panting, he takes a quick glance at the little shiny thing and with a smile, he enters the jewelry store. Almost blinded by all the sparkling pieces of jewelry, he walks toward one of the display cabinets, and politely greets the woman standing behind.

            “How can I help you?” She asks, with a practiced and bored smile hovering over his lips. She is tall and intimidating and were Harry not so eager right now, he would be running out of the place.

            “I want, um, a ring,” he says, his voice slow as ever. And it feels pleasant, a large amount of excitement suddenly filling his body, so when a grin appears in his face, he cannot help it. It gets to a point where he starts beaming, and has to curl his hands into fists to keep himself calm.

            “Do you have any style in mind?”

            “Yes, actually, I have a specific ring in mind.”  He motions for her to follow him to the cabinet that is in front of the glass wall and shows her the ring, proud of his selection. It is very simple, a silver infinite symbol circling itself around a single golden band. There is a diamond incrusted in the middle of the infinite symbol, and Harry cannot stop staring at it while the vendor is ringing him up.

            Smiling foolishly, he wonders what Louis’s reaction will be. Will he cry? Will he freak out? He is not sure, but he knows that in the end, even if it is not right away, he will definitely get a _yes_.

            “She will love it,” the woman says when she notices the absolute adoration in her customer’s face. He is confused for a moment, wondering who ‘ _she’_ is, and then he looks quickly at the ring between the tips of his fingers, analyzes the situation and laughs. She looks at him funny as she hands back his credit card.

            “Yes, I am sure _he_ will.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you guys please tell me what you think? Thaaaanks.


	3. Chapter 3

            When he is inside his car, smile all wide and happy, he texts Louis. His fingers shake with excitement as he types the message, and he suddenly starts to worry, how is he going to be able to hide something this big from the one person with whom he shares every detail of his life?

_‘Chopsuey, Im gonna stop by mums house real quick. love you.’_ He presses send, and looking at the small bag lying on the passenger seat for the nth time, he turns on the car. A few minutes later, a song from 2005 comes on the radio. He knows he has heard it at some point of his teenage years but he does not remember how the lyrics go, so he listens to it carefully as he drives.

 

_“I didn’t see you coming,_

_You took me by surprise and,_

_You stole my heart before I could say no.”_

And he feels like the biggest sap when the lyrics remind him of the way he felt when he started falling for Louis, when his love was only blossoming and its petals were just shyly opening to the world. That blurred amount of time when everything was just a small crush. When he had least expected it, Louis came into his life, passing through the doors of his heart and making it his home without asking for permission. In the most unforeseen moment, he appeared with his blue eyes and crinkly smile and his voice so dulcet, taking his breath away. And it was so easy to fall for him; he had not even had the chance to rationalize.

             The drive is not long, given that his mother has been living in a suburb of London for four years. A few years back, Anne told Harry that she had been considering moving. Harry, who was missing her terribly, made a point to find her a house close to him, not paying attention to what his mother had said about still wanting to live in Holmes Chapel. After going through almost four websites and visiting five or six different houses, they had finally found the perfect one; she felt in home as soon as she put a foot on its wooden floor. She bought it a week later, and Harry still thinks that that has been the biggest triumph of his life.

He pulls into his mother’s driveway, the sight of the wooden fence, the colorful flowers, the garden leprechauns, and the grey brick walls making him feel at ease, just because it is simply like her; homey and welcoming.

            He rings the bell, and then rings it again before he hears a voice, ‘ _coming!’._ Only a couple seconds later, his mother opens the door and when he is greeted with a surprised expression from her, his tongue is twisted in a tight knot. He is not sure what he has to say now, so he only smiles awkwardly while his mother greets him and pulls him into a hug, kissing both of his cheeks.

            They go inside and straight into the kitchen, he sits in a chair by the marble island and tries to form coherent sentences in his mind, all the while she puts a kettle on the stove. She sits by his side, and tells him that Gemma has called that morning and the doctors have told her that her baby will be a boy. He beams, and thinks that life is so kind. He also makes a mental note to call her and convince her to name her son Harry.

            An hour later, while Harry is picking on a piece of the tangerine pie that Anne has baked the previous day, he sighs loudly.

            “Mum, there is something I need to tell you.” He announces, while scratching the nape of his neck nervously. He doubts his mother will disapprove of his decisions, but there is always a chance that she will tell him that it is too soon or that he is being delusional, because she is wise and he is only a young man whom Fate has chosen to bless with her most beautiful gift. A young man who is just helplessly in love.

            “Naturally.” She closes her eyes, letting him know that she has been aware of his hands constantly fidgeting or the way he suddenly opens his mouth to say something only to close it again, getting all thoughtful with his brows meeting just above the line of his nose.

            “Well, you know that I love Louis very much, right?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Well, I, I kind of…” He does not know how to say it, his nerves are holding the words at the back of his throat and his mind is fogged. His eyes go from the lamp to the ceiling fan to a frame on the wall, but it seems that his ability to articulate is completely gone. So he tells her to wait a second, walks out of the house and to his car, and goes back inside with the little paper bag. “Look.” He hands her the bag and at the moment she takes out the small velvet box and opens it, she covers her mouth with her free hand and tears start welling up in her eyes.

            “My baby,” she looks at him with glassy eyes, waiting for her younger son to confirm what she already knows.

            “I will propose to Louis, mum.” He declares, more confidently. She tears up a bit, and smiles a beautiful and proud smile. Then she gets up and pulls him into a long embrace.

            “Congratulations, my baby.” She says, voice watery and dripping nothing but support.

            “You don’t think it is too rushed?” He asks, mentally smacking himself for bringing that up, but he needs to know; he needs to be reassured.

            “I think you have been together long enough to know when it is the right time.” She says when she gathers herself, wiping away tears with the hem of her sleeve. 

 

 -

 

            Harry comes back to their flat at night. He enters the place trying to make the lesser noise possible because he wants to surprise his lover. So he takes off his shoes and tip-toes to their shared room, -which once was only Harry’s -, and when he’s about to yell ‘ _surprise_ !’ he notices that the bedroom is empty. He frowns, and goes back.

            “In the kitchen, Styles!” He hears a yell from the other side of the place, and he can’t help the smile, even if his little surprise has been ruined. What on earth is Louis doing in the kitchen? He will definitely find out.

            When he enters the area, Louis is right in front of the stove, with a spatula in a hand and a frying pan in the other. He is wearing a loose Hulk t-shirt and sweatpants, and to Harry, he looks comfortable and cuddly. His hair is sticking out in every direction possible, except for the strands closer to his forehead -which are styled messily to the left- and the ones that are damp with sweat and have stuck to his skin. He turns around and discharges the content of the pan in two plates. _Gosh_ , a blue apron is hanging from his neck, and if the sight does not melt Harry’s heart, then he does not know what the tingling between his ribs is.   

            “I made dinner.” Louis announces, smiling proudly and pointing at the dishes to prove his point. The younger man’s face softens and he swears his heart is doing all kinds of pirouettes at the gesture. And since he has been in a flashback mood lately, he remembers when Louis cooked his very first meal ever, when they were still in The X Factor House, just for Harry.

            “Good, because I’m hungry!” Harry declares and Louis delicately pushes him to their dining table and makes him take a seat.

            “Wait here,” Louis orders as he points at him with his index finger, all eager and energetic, and goes back to the kitchen. He comes back with two plates, places them on the table, returns to the kitchen and then comes back with two cups and wine. Harry only watches him go back and forth, amused.  Lastly, he takes a seat by his boyfriend’s side in the huge table.

            When people think about romantic dinners, they usually have the image of a table lit with candles and all types of fancy food, but that is not this case. Louis does not cook, at all. So, what he has made is spaghetti with a spicy onion sauce which recipe he has found on the blog _cooking-for-dummies_.

            Harry tastes the food, the pasta is a bit sticky and doughy and, the sauce is a little watery, but Harry has never enjoyed any meal this much. He thinks the fried vegetables are a nice touch, and he is one hundred percent positive that the other man’s dedication has been the main ingredient.

            “This tastes horrid,” Louis says as he finishes chewing on a few noodles, disappointment taking the place of his former enthusiasm.

            “I love it,” Harry says, because it is true and he wants Louis to know, wants Louis to know how much he appreciates what he has done.

            “You do?”

            “Yeah,” as if to prove his point, he takes a mouthful of noodles to his mouth, beaming in delight, “but if you don’t like it, then, more for me!” He makes an attempt of grabbing Louis’s plate, but his hand is slapped and the plate is taken away from him.

            “Shove off, Styles!”

            During the rest of the dinner, Louis watches Harry eat. Fondness crystal clear in his blue eyes. Because he is aware that the dish is not good, yet Harry eats it, genuinely pleased. He wonders in what point of his life he has gotten so lucky.

            “Oh, Harry, what were you doing at your mother’s?” Louis asks, only a bit curious, with the intention of creating a conversation and wanting to know about the other’s day.

            “I, um,” the question has taken him by surprise, so he struggles to come up with a lie, and he feels like the most horrible human being for not being honest to his lover, but he guesses that this time, the end  justifies the means, “I… well, she wanted to show me, like, Gemma’s ultrasound.”

            “Woah, that is amazing!” Louis exclaims, all excited. He has been witness to many births, (his sisters, Lux, Liesel, keep counting) but babies always fill him with anticipation and eagerness. “Why didn’t you tell me to go with you? I would have loved to see the baby too.”

            “Um, no worries, um, it’s just an ultrasound, she has another, um, in two weeks, I think.” He stutters a bit, his gaze down on the food. Louis frowns because it is not like Harry to take something so important that lightly, but shrugs it off.

            When they finish their meal, they head straight to the sofa for a movie marathon. They pick Despicable Me, Love Actually and Ju-On: The Curse. Harry protests, he does not like horror movies. But they have a deal when it comes to their weekly movie marathon: Harry gets to pick one, Louis picks one and the last one is picked by both. And Louis has picked The Curse, just because it is really terrifying and a scaredy Harry is something he cannot resist.

            In the end, he falls asleep halfway through Love Actually, and though Harry is usually asleep by the time the second movie gets to its fortieth minute, he cannot close his eyes for longer than what it takes to blink. There are two questions floating in his mind: where will he propose and, how?

            He thinks about a dinner in Rosso, but that is too cliché, even for him. He thinks about going hang gliding and have the words _marry me_ written on the field so Louis can see it from above, but that would be to go overboard. And he would be scared shitless, but he is not close to admitting that. The idea of a dinner in a lonely beach also goes through his mind, and so does the idea of making a special breakfast and pop the question while Louis is still on bed. But none of his ideas give him the excitement he is looking for.

            It’s only after Harry has grabbed the remote and turned off the TV that the perfect idea comes to his mind. And with a foolish smile, he falls asleep on Louis’s chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thaaaaaaaaaaaaanks for reading :) can you tell me what you think? thank you again


	4. Chapter 4

One Direction does not exist anymore, they parted ways four years ago. Liam is now a soloist, and participates in every type of charity all around the globe, especially in third world countries. He has been dating Marisa -who happens to be his PR agent- for a year. Niall has opened his own record label, and is the judge of a new talent show along with Simon Cowell, ‘Who’s the Brightest Star?’ is its name. He is not dating anyone, but has been flirting with one of the judges, Kate and it seems to be promising. Zayn has been retired ever since because he is enjoying home life with Perrie and Liesel, their four year old daughter; they live in a cozy house in the suburbs of Bradford. Louis and Harry have stuck together, though, and are now a duo. That brought a little comfort to the broken-hearted fans, fans who are still as loyal as ever.

Even though the band does not exist anymore, their friendship still does. Because there is nothing strong enough to break the bond these five boys –now men– have created over the years since they very first started in the stairs.

Consequently, when Harry calls one morning, Liam does not hesitate to accept his invitation. They meet two days later, in a café that the five guys often visit. The place is comfy and small and is almost always empty. It is filled with a welcoming quietness that is only interrupted by the eventual whistle of the teapots and the clacking of cutlery against plates.

As soon as Liam catches sight of Harry sitting in one of the tables, he knows that there is something bothering him or making him restless and anxious. The guy is biting his nails and the tea is untouched.

“Hello, Harry,” when he greets him, the lad is a little taken aback. But then he breaks into a lovely smile and they hug for seconds that feel like hours. They sit and fill each other in on the latest news of their lives, and the other boys’ lives –because they still call themselves ‘the boys’- and some of their mutual acquaintances’.

“So, Harry, what is it?” Liam says once he is tired of going in circles, “I’m sure you didn’t make me fly all the way from Albania to show me pictures of Daisy and Phoebe’s birthday party.”

“I may have! Sharing them on social networks makes it less special.” Harry argues, pouting a little, and Liam fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“And why is Louis not here? Since, you know, they’re his sisters.” And Harry’s open mouth is shut. His eyes travel around the place for a second, studying every corner of the store and Liam starts to worry.

“I,” Harry opens his mouth again to speak, but he’s got no idea how to put his thoughts into words, even if it is supposed to be easier now because Liam is the second person he has decided to tell about his plan, “I may, I-I, will, maybe, um…”

“Have you forgotten the ability to form complete sentences, Styles?”

“When did you become so sarcastic, Payne?” Harry does roll his eyes and furrows his eyebrows, very nervous. He sighs and says, “I will propose to Louis.” He says it in a rushed flow of words that Liam almost does not catch any of it.

“Woah, really?” His eyes go incredibly wide as surprise falls over his face, but then he breaks into a wide grin, feeling so proud that a few tears well in his eyes, “that is huge, mate, congratulations!” Liam smiles so widely and looks so genuinely happy that it melts Harry’s heart.

“Thank you.” He thanks him, and it is somehow overwhelming because the more people know about it, the more real it becomes. And it makes him edgy, and his hands start to sweat and his breathing becomes uneven. He likes to compare the feeling to the moment he took his audition, the expectation and anxiety rising up in his throat and the adrenaline rushing through his veins as the seconds passed and his turn got closer. But it is a thousand times more wonderful, therefore, more nerve-wrecking. It’s a beautiful kind of nerve-wrecking, though.

“What about, um, coming out?” Liam asks carefully, not wanting to hit a nerve.

 

“That is actually why I need you and the guys to help me.” 

 

-

After his brief meeting with Liam, Harry drives to the mall where they are having a signing, twenty minutes later than Louis. When he arrives, he sees his boyfriend bouncing and pacing around the place impatiently.

“Hello, Sunshine,” he says, and Louis turns around, brows knitted together, and relief falls over his face as soon as he sees Harry.

“Where have you been, Harry, this thing is about to start!” But if he is completely honest with himself, being late for the signing is not what has kept his mind so preoccupied.

“Sorry, Lou,” Harry does not answer Louis’s question, not feeling capable of articulating a lie. He brushes the man’s cheek with the back of his fingers, and slowly kisses his forehead, his lips lingering there only a little too long. Louis bites the urge to catch his mouth in his own; there are too many people around. So, he sighs and takes Harry’s hand, intertwining their fingers and, leads him to the table.

When the signing is finished and their manager sends them home, Louis takes Harry’s hand again and starts walking towards his boyfriend’s car. Suddenly, the green eyed man’s phone begins to ring; he pulls it out of his pocket, looks at the ID and excuses himself, hand slipping away from Louis’s.

He stares, surprised, as he talks lowly on the phone at a distance big enough to keep Louis from listening, and cannot help feeling a little wave of worry welling in his mind. Harry is never this secretive, not with him, never with him. He watches him hang up and walk back to where Louis is standing. They get in the car and Louis does not say a single word while Harry talks about some of the fans they have met earlier.

“Who were you talking to, I mean, on the phone?” He asks, bluntly interrupting Harry while he is telling him about a fan who has brought a picture she took with One Direction back in 2010. He tries to make it sound less like an accusation, but he does not care to find out whether it has been a successful attempt.

“Um,” Harry tears his eyes from the road to lay them upon Louis quickly, and he does not know what to say. The person on the phone was Zayn, who has called to let him know that he will be in London in three days to help him with everything he needs, “it was mom.” Harry stutters and Louis immediately knows he is lying, so he asks no further.

Louis starts to notice a pattern then. Harry makes too many secretive phone calls, goes out too often and is never honest about where he is going. On free days, he leaves early and heads back home past noon. He does not tell him about his day and his thoughts are always wandering. Sometimes Louis will even stop telling him something because he suddenly realizes he does not have the other’s attention. He spends too much time writing on his journal, and when he is done, he hides the leather notebook under the mattress. He hides it from him, Louis realizes sadly; no one else ever steps in that room.

 

So, when Harry wakes him up one morning and tells him that he needs to drive to Birmingham to visit Gemma and that he will be back next morning, he is sure that he can physically feel the pain as his heart breaks in a thousand little pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe the bad timing  
> ps. When I wrote this (in 2013, I think), I didn't have internet, so I didn't know about Sophia until a few weeks later, and honestly, I didn't want to change the story.. if you read this, thank you! Would you tell me what you think? Also, if I have grammar mistakes, let me know, please! English is not my native language and I'm still learning. Thanks a lot.


	5. Chapter 5

The day is less than a week away, and Harry is growing more and more nervous, such is his nervousness that he probably has grown some grey hairs by now. There are so many details to polish and he constantly feels like it will all end up being a total mess. And he cannot afford that, so he does his best. He wonders if he should kneel in front of Louis, or if that will make it too cliché, he goes over the words he has written on his speech too many times to count. There is also an important thing he needs to do the next day; it is the last step to his proposal.

But all this stress has been affecting his mood, so he has started treating his boyfriend differently. He is not as loving as usual, he does not compliment him as much as he always does, and most importantly, he has not said I love you in almost a week. He does not do any of this consciously, God knows he never would, it is only that the loads of things he has to do have blurred his vision and he is not able to see what he has been doing.

His chain of thoughts is cut when a hand grips his upper arm and shakes him weakly. He snaps out of his trance and looks up, only to find his boyfriend’s troubled gaze.

“Harry, have you been listening to any of what I’m saying?” Louis asks, and he feels like the biggest twat when he recognizes a glint of hurt in his eyes; he has been so caught up in his own mind that he has forgotten Louis has been telling him about an interesting article he read online. The older man lets go of his arm and looks away, aware of the fact that his suspicion is gradually becoming a reality. And he wants to confront Harry about it, but he is not brave enough; he does not want to see his lips move as he says the words that will most likely tear him apart. Only thinking about it terrifies him to a point where he just freezes and his brain completely shuts down. So he swallows his words and keeps his silence, and wishes and hopes and prays. Everything just in the vain hope that maybe, he has been reading all the wrong signs, an option that –according to him- is illogical, given the fact that he has been living with Harry for nine years and knows him like he knows every line drawn on the palm of his hand.

That night, Louis passes past Harry, who is sitting on the sofa while writing something on his notebook. He says a low ‘good night, Harry’ and does not even wait for him to reply when he is already giving his back to him, walking to their bedroom.

At five in the morning, Harry wakes up with a sore neck and a numb butt, for the reason that he has fallen asleep in a sitting position on the couch. Growling at the pain, he massages his neck a little and notices the journal on his lap. He panics as he realizes that the notebook is open on the page where he has been writing his speech. It seems that he has dozen off while he was on it.

He takes a quick shower, and with every minute passing, the pressure in his throat keeps rising. Today is a crucial day, he thinks as he rinses his hair. And if telling his mother and friends has been similar to taking his audition, then this day can only be compared to the seconds he spent standing in front of the three judges, waiting for them to decide if his dream would come true or not.

With a towel around his hips and feeling a little more relaxed, he gets in bed and slips his arm under the blanket and over Louis’s waist, at the same time as he kisses the back of his head several times. The man mumbles pleasantly and lazily turns around, curling up against Harry’s chest with his arms folded in between. He leaves soft and tender feather kisses all over the sleeping man’s face, as their legs tangle together. He kisses his eyes, the tip of his nose, his forehead, until the corners of his mouth go a little upwards in a sleepy smile and Harry kisses it too.

Louis’s heart flutters, and he thinks that maybe he has been indeed reading the wrong signs. Maybe he has misunderstood Harry’s behavior, and nothing has actually changed. Perhaps, the tour has gotten its toll on him and he only needs his space. A little spark of hope lights inside of his soul and he snuggles closer to the other body and presses his cheek to the butterfly on his lower chest, sinking in the warmth that spreads all the way through his skin from all the spots where they are touching.

Harry wakes up an hour later, with Louis still nestled against him. He takes a few minutes to watch him sleep, takes in his relaxed facial muscles and the long eyelashes that rest on his cheeks. He admires in awe as the dim sunlight lays itself throughout the extension of his skin, making the man look almost ethereal in the golden scenery. He presses a sluggish kiss to his forehead, and says all softly, “Lou? Lou, babe, wake up, please.” He shakes his shoulder lightly, and Louis slowly wakes up.

“Yeah, love?” He says, voice rough with sleep, and Harry smiles.

“I need to go to Birmingham,” he tells him, and Louis opens his eyes quickly as a frown appears in his face, “Gemma has asked me to help her buy a few things for the baby.” Harry explains, suddenly feeling ashamed. He cannot stand not being sincere to him. His life has always revolved around lies his management has created to keep the media and fans happy, but with Louis, he has never had to hide anything. Doing it now feels like being stabbed, and he is the one holding the knife.

Something inside Louis tightens as Harry reluctantly gets up from their bed, and in a desperate attempt, he grabs his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Do you-,” his voice is high pitched, and it breaks around the edges, “do you absolutely have to go?” He looks at the other’s eyes with a tear-filled gaze. A gaze that is utterly restless and hesitant; he is pleading. Harry’s heart sinks with guilt as he tries to convince himself that the proposal will be worth the brokenness in his Louis’s eyes.

“I-,” the younger guy stutters, and Louis hurriedly places his hands in the back of his neck and brings him in for a kiss. It is desperate, with a lot of teeth crashing as the older boy moves in hasty and uncertain steps. Harry does not notice, but with the gesture, Louis is begging him to stay, he is saying don’t leave, please, don’t leave me; he is screaming it out loud. Harry makes the first move to part, and turns away when his lover tries to catch his lips again. “I do…” Harry wants to stay, that is the only thing he wants to do at the moment. He wants to stay and say sorry a million times and kiss him and hug him, and say sorry a million times more. But, he cannot propose without taking that trip. Though he is not going to Birmingham like he has said. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

When Harry leaves, Louis is left speechless. That’s it, the confirmation Louis has been trying so hard to avoid has finally been laid before him. It has finally come, with its enormous fists punching him until he’s left on the ground, breathless and without any trace of strength. He chokes a few sobs before he completely breaks down, and ear-piercing sobs start flowing through the air like the melody of a broken music box. It is hard for him to believe that Harry might be cheating on him, but he is almost one hundred percent sure that he does not love him anymore. And he is aware that it is his entire fault. Maybe he has not been devoted enough, or maybe he has been too sarcastic sometimes and has hurt him without meaning it. He does not know, but he has surely done something, and now he has lost him, Harry; a man that has been attached so tightly to his soul that they have become one. Harry, who is a part of his own being, like his heart and his brain and his kidney. It has been so foolish of him; to think that he deserves someone as good as Harry. 

Two hours later, Zayn, who is ‘conveniently’ in town, knocks on the door. When Louis opens, all puffy nose and red eyes, his friend takes his hand and leads him inside. He tells him about Liesel starting ballet classes, and shows him a few pictures he has taken on his phone, the little girl looking lovely with ponytails and a tutu.

“It’s black, the tutu,” Louis says softly, a fond yet small smile in his face as he looks at the picture.

“Yeah, she refused to wear the pink one,” Zayn laughs, “I think she will be very punk rock.” He tries to joke, but it barely causes a silent chuckle on the other. 

“Maybe that’s because you used to lull her to sleep with Nirvana and Guns ‘n’ Roses instead of proper lullabies when she was a baby.”

“Lullabies are creepy.” He grimaces.

“I’ll give you that.”

Zayn is not sure what he is supposed to do, to be honest. When Harry called him that morning and asked him to go check on Louis, he immediately accepted but he has not had much time to think about what to say without ruining Harry’s plans. So, he chooses light topics to talk about, trying to clear the tension and wanting Louis to calm down. 

A silence falls upon them as both men try to gather the courage to stop ignoring the elephant in the room and speak up their thoughts. It is Louis who speaks first.

“I think Harry does not love me anymore,” Louis says, without tearing his eyes from his now empty mug. Zayn widens his eyes in total disbelief, what.

“What, Lou, just, what?”

“He has been so distant lately,” Louis confesses with a small voice, “he is not the same.” He tells Zayn everything in a slow pace, and the other listens carefully. He tells him everything, from the lies to the phone calls to the stupid excuses and the trip to Birmingham. If Louis wasn’t so broken, Zayn would find this whole twisted situation funny.

“Mate, I am sure you are misunderstanding him.”

“No, Zayn, it is clear as water. But he is too good to actually break up with me.”

“What are you saying, Louis?”

“I don’t want Harry to stick with me if he doesn’t want to, so, I will break up with him.” Louis hiccups a little and Zayn starts to panic, not knowing if he should spill everything he knows or if he should keep quiet. “I want him to feel free to see other people, if he is not happy with me.”

“Louis, don’t rush things, okay?” He says almost desperately, “your anniversary is in three days, right?”

“Yeah, how do you know?”

“Ergh, we lived together for five years, Louis.” He says, but truth be told, he had not remember until Harry told him. “Maybe he is preparing a surprise for you, right? Wait until your anniversary before doing anything.”

“I guess you could be right.” He agrees, but he does not look so convinced.

 

“C’mon, man, cheer up! You’ll see everything is just a misunderstanding.”

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this is one of my favorite parts. There's only two parts left. Soo, thanks if you read this, I appreciate it a lot! If you could tell me what you think, it'd be really nice of you :)


	6. Chapter 6

Harry tries to block the happenings of that morning as he stands in the front porch of Johannah´s house. He does not want to be tense, but the image of Louis’s eyes stays vivid in his mind like a photograph, his broken voice echoes in his ears like glass crashing on the floor. Praying that it all goes out well in the end, he knocks on the door. He hears a feminine voice yelling, ‘I’ll get it’ and he recognizes it right away, Daisy. When she swings the door open, her eyes and smile widen and she does not wait a second to hug him tightly.

“Harry!” And while he is only beginning to hug her back, Phoebe sees him too and in a second, she is also hugging him. He giggles in delight, and catches sight of Louis’s mother above the girls’ heads. The twins let go of him and Johannah pulls him into a hug too. He kisses her cheek with respect and fondness.

“Hello, lovely, come in, come in,” she leads him to the couch in the living room. He takes a look around the house, something he always does when he and Louis visit, only because he likes to see the frames hanging on the walls. There is one of Louis, Felicity and Charlotte with the twins when they were just two little babies, from what he has been told, the picture was taken the day Johannah had brought Daisy and Phoebe home from the hospital. There is another one of Charlotte with a turquoise dress from the day of her graduation party. In a Hello Kitty shaped frame, there is a photo of Felicity in a school play when she was thirteen. There is also a picture of Johannah kissing Louis’s cheek, he has frosting on his face and if you look closely, you can see a peek of a mop of curls from one of the corners; it was taken on Louis’s 23th birthday and Harry of course, was there. He wants to be part of this family so badly.

The twins plop down on the sofa by his sides, sandwiching him as they start harassing him with questions.

“So, how are you treating our brother?” Phoebe asks, stabbing his cheek with her index finger, right where his dimple is located.

“Yeah, is the sex good?” Now it’s Daisy speaking, and Harry blushes furiously. Both girls laugh and Johannah shakes her head as she puts a tray of pastries and tea on the small round table.

“Girls.”

They laugh even harder and Daisy pinches Harry’s cheek. Daisy and Phoebe tell him about their life in Doncaster. They tell him about the universities they want to apply for, and the karate class Daisy has signed up for. Phoebe’s cheeks go impossibly red when Daisy tells him about the girl’s crush. They also show him Mufasa, their newly adopted kitten, and he cannot help awwing at it when he sees the small pet. Harry loves these people so dearly; he cherishes them with his entire soul and heart. And he wishes nothing more than making that unbreakable bond official by law.

“Girls,” he says with a serious yet kind voice, “I need to talk to your mummy alone.”

“What? You got our brother pregnant?” Phoebe questions with a playful smirk worthy of a true Tomlinson.

“Girls, the room!” Johannah half-scolds them and they leave, laughing loudly as Harry hides his face in a fluffy cushion.

“I swear, I didn’t, just, I,” he surely loves the girls as if they were his own sisters, but some days he wishes he could just smack them. He remembers when he met them; they were two innocent little girls unaware of the world, now they are two monsters who never miss a chance to embarrass him.

“I’m sure of that, honey.” Johannah smiles fondly and he relaxes. After his mother, Johannah is the wisest and kindest woman he knows. “What do you want to tell me?” A small silence falls upon the living room, but it is not uncomfortable, and Harry searches for the best words.

“Your son,” he begins, and looking at the woman, his eyes get watery, “your son, he is, he is the most important person in the world to me. Every day that I get to spend by his side is, like, a new reason to smile.” He pauses, licks his lips and continues talking, “that sounded cheesy, didn’t it?” He smiles sheepishly and scratches the nape of his neck. “I mean, I love him. I love him so much that I wake up every day and I try to understand how I can be so lucky. I try to understand how it is that I deserve him. He makes me so happy and the only thing I wanna do is to spend the rest of my life making him happy too.” He chokes, and she takes his hands, squeezing them to provide him with the support he needs. “I-I, I bought a ring,” her eyes widen when realization hits her and soon she is tearful too, her mouth slightly agape, “I will propose to him in a few days, and it would make me very happy to have your blessing.”

She takes a minute to take in the words her son’s boyfriend has just said. Ever since Harry and Louis started dating, he has become a stronger person. He is now more mature and without a doubt, happier. Louis and Harry complement each other, and are constantly overcoming obstacles in order to protect their relationship. And even during the hardest battles they have fought, they have never questioned the love they feel. She only wishes the best for her baby, -who will always be her baby, no matter if he is twenty-seven by now-, and she knows that the best is Harry. So she says, “I am sure you will make him very happy, love.”

He smiles proudly, feeling triumphal and overjoyed; both of them tear up a little with a choked laugh. In a minute, the girls are flying down the stairs, squealing and laughing. He gasps when they both jump on him and hug him.

He really does not understand why he was so nervous in the first place; they are the warmest people he knows.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The day has finally arrived, and everything is so chaotic that Harry has to pull at his hair to suppress a frustrated scream from time to time. It is their anniversary, and there is a signing and they have a show in Dublin and he is on the edge of a mental breakdown.

They wake up early and Louis barely talks to him. Since he came back from Doncaster, Louis has been avoiding him and their few conversations are awkward and hesitant. It is so unbearable that there is a moment, when they are on their way to the signing, that Harry reaches for his satchel bag, and almost takes out the box, determined to propose right then and there. But he has worked so hard to make it special, and he thinks that that is the only way to make it up to him for everything he has put him through, so he shakes his head and hides the little box further into the bag.

When they are at the venue, Harry makes countless phone calls; to their families, to the guys, to everyone involved in his plan. And he wants to bang his head against the wall when Niall tells him that he is stuck on traffic because of a huge accident and he is not sure if he is going to be able to make it in time. A staff member informs him that soundcheck is about to begin and that he is needed on stage. He waves her off, and keeps yelling at someone on the phone, until she glares at him and threatens to call Big B, -Bobby, their bodyguard who is about two hundred feet tall and has muscles like a professional wrestler- so he sighs loudly and heads to the stage.

When soundcheck is finished, Harry hurries backstage, pulling out his phone on the way. Louis sighs, defeated, and pulls out his own phone, too. He dials Zayn’s number.

“Hello, Lou?” Zayn says on the other side of the line, while making signs to make everyone who is with him shut up.

“He did not remember, Zayn.” Louis says lowly, making sure to keep eavesdroppers from catching it.

“C’mon, Louis, acting like you don’t remember an important date is the oldest trick in the book.” Zayn is now running out of things to say, and he starts to feel a little exasperated.

“You don’t understand, Zayn, I know him… if he was preparing a surprise or whatever, he would be all cheesy and eager and… kind,” Louis pauses. “But he has not even said a single word to me.”

In that moment, Zayn feels like going out of the dressing room where he is hiding with the others, run towards Louis and smack him until he realizes how wrong he is. But he cannot do that without ruining Harry's plans, so he plays along.

“Okay, Louis, do whatever you think it’s the best thing to do, but wait until the concert is over, at least.”

“Yeah, I will break up with him, but I’ll wait until we’re home.” After he hangs up, Louis wonders how Zayn knows they are having a show. But, lacking of the energy to think or care about anything at all, he shrugs it off and goes to his dressing room.

The show is possibly the most uncomfortable show they have had since they were in One Direction and their management told them to keep their distance. They do a massive job at avoiding looking at each other and definitely don’t touch or hug. And obviously, fans notice and start sending concerned tweets.

When the moment for the last song arrives, Harry disappears from the stage. Louis looks everywhere; sending questioning looks to their band members, but all of them shrug, mouthing ‘I don’t know’.

“Harry? Where’s Harry?” His voice is panicky, and the fans are all silent and look at each other as they search for answers, flabbergasted and maybe as confused as him.

Suddenly, the lights go out. And he wonders if something has happened and the concert should be ended early. Panic starts to make its way up his throat when he wonders if something has happened to Harry and that is why he is not on stage. He is about to run backstage when hundreds of small lights around the venue go on. Puzzled, he looks around, and in the darkness, the lights look like stars flickering in the distance.

The band starts to play a melody that he is sure does not belong to the song they have scheduled. He turns around when two familiar voices start flowing through the speakers, and catches sight of the huge screen hanging high in the middle of the stage.

A video is playing, and it’s a home video of Harry and him. In the screen, Harry is talking but is not visible, because he is the one recording Louis as he sleeps with his hair all messy and an arm hanging loosely from the edge of the bed. “And that is my gorgeous boyfriend, Louis, who is a sloth and does not want to get up for our runaway trip to Finland!” And then the image bobs as Harry jumps onto the bed with Louis and the man growls. Then Harry turns the camera around so he is recording both of them.

“Get off me, you idiot!” Harry starts kissing all over his face and the fans squeal. He watches, incredulous, as another video starts, in which they are in Oulu, and this time it’s Louis recording Harry as he rides a bike. The whole thing is a mix of videos of them, and the last one, is a video of the moment they were put in the same band, when Louis jumps on Harry. And Louis is very close to tears by then. He is confused and at loss of words, and he only wants to find Harry and demand him to explain what the hell all of this is supposed to be. But before he can even move, three well-known voices start to sing. He turns to his left, and Zayn, Liam and Niall are coming on stage, singing a song from the nineties that he knows by heart. Is this some kind of One Direction reunion and he has not gotten the memo, or what?

_“Everybody is looking for that something,_

_One thing that makes it all complete._

_You find it in the strangest places,_

_Places you never knew it could be.”_

And then, as he takes a look at the raging spectators, it hits him; everyone in the audience knows about him and Harry now. Which means that by the time this show ends, the whole world will already know. He starts getting anxious and his breathing is fast and uneven when from the right corner of the stage, a stupidly good looking Harry starts walking towards him. And he is wearing a suit, and he is smirking and Louis has never been so confused in his entire life. Zayn, Niall and Liam stop singing and Harry picks up the song from where they’ve left.

_“Well, for me, it’s waking up beside you,_

_To watch the sunrise on your face,_

_To know that I can say I love you,_

_In any given time or place.”_

And he is singing it to him, looking right into his eyes, piercing his soul. And Louis’s heart is about to jump from his chest and start running around, such is the bliss. Harry is finally in front of him, and he gasps and asks what this is all about. But he does not get an answer as the other just keeps singing.

_“Those little things that only I know,_

_Those are the things that make you mine,_

_And it’s like flying without wings,_

_‘cuz you’re my special thing.”_

And then the song is finished, and he can hear his heart pounding hard in his throat in expectation. Then Harry grins widely, and simply says, “hi, love.”

Louis wants to punch him.

He turns to the other three, Harry’s accomplices, and as they smile with mischief, he wants to smack them too. But he does not have time to do any of that, because Harry is soon talking again.

“Louis, my own personal angel, I am sorry for being the biggest jerk during the past weeks. I know I’ve made you feel lonely and unloved, but I promise I have a good reason. Though, nothing justifies your tears, and I will never forgive myself for that.” Harry says, with as much honesty as possible, and a soothing silence reigns in the whole arena; every face in the audience displaying wide eyes and mouths agape. “And with our fans, our friends and our families, who are in front row, as witnesses,” Harry observes as Louis’s eyes dart to the direction he has indicated and his face shines with recognition as he sees Anne, Johannah, Mark, Robin, Gemma, Dan, Daisy, Phoebe, Felicite and Charlotte, “I want to tell you that I love you more than I have ever loved anyone in my whole life. You make me strong in my times of weakness. When I think I have lost my mind and I cannot remember who I am anymore, you are there to take my hand, say my name and remind me.” His eyelashes quiver as he blinks a few tears away, and with the hand that is not holding the microphone, he reaches out for Louis’s. He grabs it in his own palm and squeezes it, trying to ease the choking lump that is holding back his words.

“You are my sunshine, that little sunray that gets through the window after a long thunderstorm; that is you. In dark nights, when I cannot see my way and I feel like I’m going to stumble and fall, you are the moonlight that shines on me. Like Cassiopeia in the middle of the sea, you guide my north.” In the audience, both mothers are silently crying. Louis’s eyes are a kaleidoscope of emotions and colors as he stares at his love in absolute disbelief. But his incredulity is not because he does not believe what he is being told, it is simply that he can’t believe this is all actually happening. “Some people say that love is real when you like someone like you did the first day. But I can tell you, that is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.” He smirks and Louis laughs at that, his pupils almost invisible because his smile is so wide. “Because every day, every second, I fall a little bit more in love with you. And when I think it is impossible to love you more, bang! You do something and I find myself falling even deeper.

“Every morning, when I wake up and the first thing I see is you, I feel like the luckiest guy in the whole World. I mean, there are smarter and richer people, there are people who are more famous, but they will never have you. And I do. And sometimes that overpowers me. Because, I don’t think I have done enough good to the human kind to deserve you.”

“I thought you were gonna leave me.” Louis whispers, voice croaky with tears and happiness and relief. He chokes a little and Harry’s face softens, but he squeezes his hand tighter.

“I know I’m an idiot, but not to that point.” He tries to laugh but it is a miserable attempt. “All those phone calls, all the things that have kept me occupied… I had to do it all in order to prepare this.”

“And what exactly is this?”

“You make me happy, Louis, you and you and only you.” Harry lets go of Louis’s hand and takes it to the inside of his blazer. He pulls the small velvet box out and Louis’s mouth widens. Anne and Johannah are holding each other’s hands, both mothers shedding tears of pride. “If you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making sure you are happy too. So…” He opens the box, and his hands are shaking so hard that he almost drops it, and this is it and his entire life will be summarized to the next exact moment. “Will you marry me?” He finally says, holding the box out toward his boyfriend.

Harry does his biggest work to hold back the tears that are forming in his eyes as he waits for an answer, and Louis stares at the ring and he looks at Harry and his mind is going on overdrive. He covers his mouth with a shaky palm and closes his eyelids to make the tears go away.

Everyone is expectant and in silence, some of them are holding their breaths and some others are crossing their fingers; all of them waiting for Louis to answer. A rush of adrenaline goes through Harry’s veins as he stares at the love of his life, chanting a mantra that goes something like ‘say yes, say yes, please, say yes’ in his head. Hiccupping faintly, Louis looks up at Harry, his eyes a raging ocean. He gets close to him, wraps his arms around the taller man’s neck, stands on his tiptoes and slowly kisses his lips. The kiss is unhurried and chaste. A kiss that is a mix of tastes; it is salty like tears, sweet like happiness and, exquisite like love.

“So?” Harry asks, trying to ignore the panic that is starting to take form with every second passing.

“Yes, yes, god, yes.” Louis says, all dashed and with a smile that shines brighter than the Sun. He spreads his fingers, and Harry delicately slips the ring through his fourth finger. It fits perfectly, like it is meant to be there.

Without delay, everyone cheers, and in a second, their ex-band mates are hugging them and congratulating them as thousands of papers fall throughout the whole arena.

Standing there, looking into Louis’s eyes, with their fingers interlocked and feeling the cool little band pressed to his skin, his mind goes back to a fateful morning three weeks ago. He recalls the words that a very wise young man whose name is Nicholas Grimshaw said; ‘love is like a sock, you are not complete without the other’. And he completely agrees, because as he stands there and stares at the man he has learnt to love with every cell of his body, he knows that his life would be empty without him.

But there is an unbreakable bond between them that he is sure, will keep them united until their bodies grow old and their hearts stop beating. And even then, he knows that they will end up falling in love in another life, as two different people with two different lives. Because after all, Fate walks hand in hand with Forever.

Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yo! I hope you tell me what you think.


End file.
